           
curiano
della floreste by Steve Ely
they seek him here
TELL ME YOU MOTHERFUCKER well chop your sons arm off stick a poker up
your daughters ass nail her cuntlips to the table TELL ME they seek him
there im warning you well saw off your wifes head with a bread knife shoot
its eyes out in the piazza TELL ME WHERE THE FUCK IS HE
The
studio lights disappear in a fan-like array of almost gymnastic sweetness
and the feel of velour- 60's style...
a monk is left on
the other side
still holding the weight
of the fat lady.
and chains.
of
writing poems
to write a poem is
to make an assumption
that words can do things they can't,
like trapping time in a net of lies,
Labor
Relations
Disgruntled employees
are finding satisfaction
by discharging the boss
with a firearm.
armchair
of soul
my real
education
came
from
an
armchair
in
a
public
library
What
I Don't Know about What I Know
Did Coltrane eat eggs
or oatmeal for breakfast?
Did Robert Frost masturbate with his left hand or his right?
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